


Catch me underneath the mistletoe

by Corporate_Blood



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abusive Joffrey Baratheon, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Kisses, Cuz Sansa dumped Joff's ass, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, F/M, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Lemon Cakes, Mentioned Joffrey Baratheon, Mentioned Lysa Tully Arryn, Mild Language, Minor Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Mistletoe, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Past Domestic Violence, Petyr is kinda smug, Post-Break Up, Relationship Discussions, Sansa is a romantic, Sansa is sad, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28265157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corporate_Blood/pseuds/Corporate_Blood
Summary: Sansa, having recently dumped Joffrey because he's a cheating bastard, is alone for the holidays. All she wanted was a Christmas kiss, they were so romantic in the movies, but nooo. Perhaps Petyr will be able to cheer her up?
Relationships: Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Catch me underneath the mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas all! Yes, I'm uploading this on Christmas Eve but shush :p
> 
> I hope you enjoy nonetheless ^_^

“So, here we are,” Sansa said, a little breathless with excitement.

“Here we are,” Petyr echoed, smirking.

The pair stood in the doorway to her kitchen under the mistletoe she had hung in the center of the door frame a few weeks earlier. She had been hoping for a Christmas kiss, they were always so romantic in movies and songs, and had been trying to get Joffrey to give her one. But when he turned out to be a cheating bastard, she dumped him and drowned her sorrows in lemon cakes and alcohol. Petyr, upon hearing about the breakup, had come to her flat to comfort her. She had no family in Kings Landing and the weather meant they couldn’t travel to her. Alone for the holidays was another blow to Sansa emotionally. Petyr was there to soothe, telling her about the turbulent relationship he had stayed in for far too long.

“She was a troubled woman, your aunt Lysa. Always so jealous, perceiving threats around every corner. She was convinced your mother was trying to seduce me, you know. Of course, Cat is happily married and neither of us had any wish to pursue an affair, but Lysa believed it so it was true. So, because of this, she was controlling. Oh very controlling. Telling me what to wear, for example, and trying to get rid of items of clothing if another woman complimented it. I was once told by a waitress that my tie was nice and I caught Lysa later trying to burn it,” Petyr had told her earlier that evening shaking his head.

“That sounds like Joffrey,” Sansa said softly, recalling the time Joffrey had called her a slut for wearing a bikini to the beach just because he thought some guys were staring. He then later ruined the bikini by cutting it up with a pair of scissors. 

Over the course of the evening, they had swapped stories, the serious and then the funny to cheer themselves up when the mood got too heavy. He had stolen her wine (just a little to get into the Christmas cheer, he said) and now here they stood with a pleasant buzz going. It couldn’t all be attributed to the wine, however. They had started to get loose and flirty, suggestive words pouring out their mouths answered by winks. Petyr’s grey-green eyes had darkened and he almost looked hungry, though they hadn’t gone beyond words and lingering but ultimately innocent touches. 

But now they had a decision to make, a line to cross. She glanced up at the mistletoe. “So, should we?” She asked, cheeks warming at the idea.

Despite his hunger, he restrained himself and thought for a moment. “If you’re drunk, no. You can’t consent when you’re drunk, even if you think you can in the moment,” he replied seriously. 

She nodded, sobering slightly. In all reality, she wasn’t drunk. She was barely even tipsy. The wine had warmed her and soothed her aching heart but she was able to think clearly. “I want to,” she decided. “Kiss you, I mean,” she clarified, face growing warmer still.

His smirk widened and he closed the distance, taking her warm face in his hands and bringing her in for a kiss. Their lips were equally soft, hers more plump, but both perfectly kissable. She had expected his mustache and goatee to be rough and unpleasant but instead they were surprisingly soft - perhaps he conditioned them - and the texture added an extra dimension to the kiss. It was chaste and sweet, doubly so when she tasted the lemon cake she had fed him still lingering. Sansa nearly jumped in surprise when his tongue swept across her bottom lip. Joffrey had always kissed her roughly and introduced tongue too soon. He was also fond of using his teeth to almost draw blood, his hands to grip tightly and keep her head in place. Petyr was gentle, slow, and though he cupped her face his grip was light which would allow her to break it if she wished to get away. But she didn’t want to end the kiss, not just yet.

And so she opened her mouth, welcoming his tongue inside. The exploring was slow and it always felt strange but this time it was pleasant. Tongues curled around each other, and though it was all taking place in her mouth, Sansa didn’t feel overwhelmed. She wasn’t content to just let her hands stay idle at her side so she began to snake up his body. Petyr made a soft noise of surprise but allowed her hands to travel over his torso, seeking out warmth as they ducked under his suit jacket. He shivered when she strayed too close to the center of his chest - too close to the scar that ran down his body. He backed up, breaking the kiss and took a moment to breathe deeply. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly but he shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetling, just give me a moment,” he replied, a purr present when he said her pet name. He rested against the door frame, head tilted back and half-lidded eyes regarding her. “Still got it?” He inquired a moment later, cocking an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes and tried to scowl but the pinkness in her cheeks gave her away. “Oh yeah, still got it,” he smirked. 

She stuck her tongue out at him and before he could say anything more smug, she shut him up with another kiss. This one was shorter and she pulled back when he tried to deepen it. His brow creased in confusion as she began to walk away. 

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, casting him a flirty look even as she blushed to the roots of her hair. “There’s mistletoe in my bedroom, you know.”

  
His eyes widened with surprise before the hunger returned in full force. Grabbing her by the hand, he eagerly pulled her into her own bedroom. His enthusiasm made her giggle as well as the nerves. _Guess that’s why it’s called liquid courage,_ Sansa thought as she recalled the wine she drank and how bold she was being. All thoughts then faded away as the pair really got down to business. 

All in all, it was a pretty good Christmas. 


End file.
